{Originally Published on Classy Chaos}

Naturally as a mother, my ultimate goal is to raise happy, confident and loving children. However as an immigrant in this country, I desire more.

This desire. This hungry for more is a common thread between many immigrant experiences. Library shelves are full of fascinating written words ranging from Japanese-Americans assimilating into the vineyards of California to the Mexican migrant workers surviving droughts in Texas to the Jewish people building an empire with their hands in the early years of NYC. The mothers in these carefully crafted histories did more for their children then just basic mothering.

They came to America for a better life. Leaving behind all the hardships in their homelands for a chance to conquer all the opportunities in a free world. They witnessed living in countries where success was measured by the entree served for dinner instead of by experience and education. Immigrant mothers grew hungry for more, taking nothing for granted.

There’s a valid reason why I can not really identify with any references made to Saturday morning cartoons from the 80′s. I remember the scent of my mother’s hair as she knelt down before me and repeated in a heavy Polish accent, “I did not come to this country for you to sit and watch TV.” Minutes in front of the TV innocently robbed us from essential backyard free play, from extravagant vacations to Machu Picchu, from endless summer fun at the community pool and from rhythmic gymnastics competitions. TV and video games deferred us from my mother’s desire for a better life. “We are different. You are different.” She repeated my entire life each time I begged to go to the mall or asked to watch The Wonder Years, yearning to become more American like my peers.

Richard Rodriguez’s acclaimed autobiography Hunger for Memory set a nationwide debate some years ago by addressing, “If Richard Rodriguez could succeed given his obstacles, why can’t everyone else?”

His success came from his desire for more. His hunger. That motivated him. I do believe that those factors are a result from his immigrant experience as he witnessed the hardships of the community first hand. Of course you don’t need to be an immigrant to experience hardships and to have desire/motivation for more. Although. Had Rodriguez been born into third generation Latinos his life might have been different on a more stable and paved journey through life. It’s difficult for educated immigrants to watch life in America pass them by; instead, they leap at every available opportunity within their sight.

{Originally posted at Resurrection Song}

Via Instapundit, I find this site that hits me as saying precisely what I want to say:

Today’s economic crisis impacts all Americans, not just those who are behind on their mortgages. Everyone shares concerns over health care, job loss, and the decimation of their retirement savings. All Americans have made sacrifices over the past year. The American taxpayer is already on the hook for mismanaged banks, incompetently run auto companies and extravagent stimulus packages. We don’t need the additional burden of paying for our neighbor’s mortgage. The bottom line – we believe that being current on one’s mortgage should not be grounds for being put at a financial disadvantage.

That is wildly deserving of an amen.

I find myself wondering how conservatives who bought into the rhetoric of hope and change, who believed that Obama would be governing from a moderate’s position, and who ended up voting Democrat in the elections are feeling about their decision right now? I’m feeling more and more that I voted the right direction: McCain.

Now, the current economic crisis isn’t Obama’s fault. There are a lot of names and administrations that can share the blame for bad regulations, overspending, and refusal to deal with the American economy as something built on money that doesn’t come from the Free Money Fairy. And then there are the people–that is, “we, the people”–who helped by demanding more government services and less fiscal sanity. In fact, we, the people, made it downright difficult for a person to be elected if they threatened our slice of the pie, a fact that has made blue hairs such an important voting block and rational conversation about the future of Social Security such a political hazard.

So, no, it’s not Obama’s fault.

But I remember watching one of the televised debates and hearing McCain promise a spending freeze followed by deep cuts in the budget coupled with a belief that raising taxes on any Americans right now would be foolish and irresponsible. Obama, in contrast, spoke breezily about cutting the budget, but thought that a spending freeze was a bad idea and an increase in taxes on the wealthy (whatever “wealthy” might mean) was a brilliant idea.

{Originally published on Random Musings From a Pregnant American in London}

I know that in general, drinking alcohol is a “no-no” in pregnancy. It doesn’t take an obstetrician or experienced mama to know that heavy drinking is strongly linked to babies with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders (FASD) or full blown Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I’d be reckless to put my unborn child at such risk.

Yet here in the UK I have heard and read that light drinking during pregnancy is not clinically proven to precipitate ill effects in babies. The definition of “light drinking” is hazy, but the general understanding is that if you employ common sense and have, say, one drink per week, there is no evidence to show you will be doing your child a disservice. Is there still a slight risk involved? Yes. But there is a risk in doing pretty much everything when you are pregnant: eating a hot dog at a baseball game, stretching before and after exercise, crossing the street on unsteady feet with a big belly….

I thought this seemed like sensible advice, so throughout my first trimester I had a sip or small glass of wine now and again. Particularly before we broke our news, this was an easy way to keep suspicion at bay. It’s not like I’m a heavy drinker, but when girls my age who usually enjoy a glass of wine at the pub after work turn to OJ and start making excuses about being on antibiotics, covers are quickly blown.

When I was recently in NY on vacation I received my own sacred copy of Heidi Murkoff’s What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Whoooeee! Heidi is the goddess of pregnancy advice, and I am finding her book very helpful; however, her commentary on alcohol in pregnancy freaked me out! I can’t remember the advice verbatim, but it was something to the affect of “You should not drink at all during pregnancy. The alcohol in your system will cross the placenta and will have harsher effects on your baby than you – so you may not even feel buzzed, but your baby could be drunk!” Oh, crap.

I thought I’d been so careful. I felt guilty and concerned. Then the fear set in and I started counting up the number of drinks I’d had over the previous weeks and asking my friends and family if they thought baby would be all right. Everyone agreed they thought I was fine. Some commented they’d heard it’s safer to drink lightly after the first trimester, but first trimester was where I was. Ironically, those on both sides of the pond, including Heidi, tell you not to worry about the alcohol you drank before you were pregnant. Well some girls would probably have drunk more without knowing than I did while in the know! But fear wreaks havoc with logic.

{Originally published on Mischief Makers}

I have seen a good half dozen, at least, articles about how the Obamas are painting a vibrant healthy image of the Black family for Americans and the world. You know, the new Black Family.